One Reason
by chris-daae
Summary: Based on a prompt from tumblr: "Come on, give me one good reason not to jump in the lake." It was a cold winter night. Meg wondered why her mother insisted in doing this today. Why couldn't they spend the night warm in their home, and do this in the morning, when the sun would make it warmer?


It was a cold winter night. Meg wondered why her mother insisted in doing this today. Why couldn't they spend the night warm in their home, and do this in the morning, when the sun would make it warmer?  
Her mother didn't want the boy around for longer, she figured. Why would she bring him in in first place, only to leave him somewhere else, Meg didn't understand.  
Madame Giry raised her lantern, the light reflecting on the dark waters of the lake. Meg looked down, her reflection was just a shadow.  
The boy stood behind her mother, most of his figure covered by shadows. Meg got to exchange a few words with him before mother brought them there, and she wanted to talk more with him. But Madame Giry didn't seem to approve of it. She seemed to want him out of her life as soon as possible.  
The boy seemed a few years older than Meg, who was sixteen. He was very thin, and his pale skin was covered in bruises, that her mother treated before they left, and scars. Mother also helped him cut his long and messy gray hair, so now he looked like a proper young gentleman. Except for his face, of course. Meg found it disturbing to look at his face, the shapes so distorted, so wrong. She couldn't help it. Still, the most disturbing of all were his eyes. They looked normal, but there was a feeling there, a feeling that Meg couldn't name yet but that gave her shivers.  
Meg could understand why her mother wanted to get rid of him. Which didn't mean she agreed.  
After all, when Meg finally got him to say something, his voice was nothing like his appearance. It was sweet, calm, it was enough to take away the uneasy feeling that built inside of her for being in the same room as him. He didn't tell her much – she had yet to even learn his name – but it showed her flashes of what seemed a painful but exciting life. Meg's life was always the same: going from home to the opera house, from doing chores to help her widowed mother to the ballet lessons and back. Meanwhile, that boy had seen things, had been to places, she could tell from the accent that she couldn't recognize, or from the way his words made him sound much older. Meg wanted to hear about these things, about these places. She wanted to hear it all.  
"I think this is far enough.", said Madame Giry. "People rarely come down here. It's said to be dangerous."  
Meg nodded. She knew the stories. She still wasn't sure if she believed all the stories of the monsters and sirens and ghosts that lived in the cellars, but she wouldn't try to provoke them.  
"What is beyond this... lake?", the boy asked. He was probably freezing, still in the rags he wore when Madame Giry took him home, covered only by a dark cloak.  
"It doesn't matter.", Madame Giry replied, her voice hard. "It's impossible to get there. You are not trying it."  
The boy didn't reply. Madame Giry turned in his direction.  
"You are only staying here until it stops snowing. Then you will go away. And no one is to ever see or hear you. Do you understand?"  
Meg has never heard her mother sound so cold, so harsh, not even she caught the girl sneaking away from practice. She felt a shiver.  
The boy didn't reply.  
"I asked you a question: did you understand?", she repeated, grabbing his arm. He pulled away in a harsh move.  
"Yes, madame."  
"Good.", she handed to him one candle and one match. "Let's go, Meg."  
The boy walked until he was just a few steps from the lake. He stared down at the water.  
Meg watched him, and then turned to her mother.  
"I want to stay a little longer."  
"Meg."  
"Please, mother. I know my way around here, I come here everyday."  
Madame Giry looked from her daughter to the boy, then back to her daughter. She sighed.  
"Don't take long. I will be waiting at the door."  
Meg watched her mother leave, taking with her the only source of light. Before she and the boy were left in complete darkness, the boy lit the candle and placed it on the floor. He then went back to look at the lake.  
"You should have gone with your mother. Isn't it dangerous for a little girl to be alone in a place like this?"  
"I am not alone." Meg didn't want to show, but what he said made her think again if it was a good idea.  
The boy sighed.  
"I don't know what you are expecting but it's not happening. I owe you nothing.", his voice was much harsher than it was when they talked earlier.  
Meg blinked. She didn't understand what he meant, didn't understand why he was suddenly so defensive.  
Some moments of silence followed, Meg not knowing what to say, and the boy staring at the lake.  
"Can you swim, Meg?", he suddenly asked. It was the first time he said Meg's name.  
"Yes.", Meg replied. "But this is not a good place for swimming. The water is cold, and dirty."  
"Good.", the boy whispered. "Have you ever drowned?"  
Meg felt a shiver, and unconsciously took one step behind. She could not see it, but the boy smiled.  
"Water burns, you know.", he said. "It burns your eyes if you open them. It burns your wounds. It burns your nose, and your throat, it burns you inside."  
Meg was getting really scared. She wanted to run back to her mother, away from that strange boy. At the same time, the way he spoke left her stuck where she stood, wanting to hear the next word, wanting to know how it would end.  
"I never learned how to swim.", he whispered, dropping the cloak, exposing his body to the cold air. He took one step forward, and Meg understood what he was doing.  
"Stop!", she shouted.  
He stopped, and turned to her. In the poor light, Meg couldn't see much more than his eyes. She couldn't see that he was crying, and have been crying for a while now.  
"Why?", he asked. "Give me one reason. Give me one good reason not to jump in this lake." His voice was not calm and soft anymore. It was irregular, full of emotion. Meg hadn't felt in her life half of the sadness he put in each word.  
"You said you can't swim. If you jump you will..."  
"I know what will happen.", Meg felt dumb for even mentioning it. Of course he knew, it was on purpose right? "I will disappear. Forever.", he turned back to the lake. "I won't ever hurt again. I won't ever burden anyone again."  
"Please, don't do it.", Meg insisted. It was painful and she didn't know what to do.  
"Why not?", the boy asked again.  
"Because... Because you didn't finish telling me that story. I need to know what will happen to the East Princess.", Meg said the first thing that came to her mind. She knew it was silly but what else could she say? She barely knew him. She didn't know if he had a family somewhere, or any other friends, to mention it.  
The boy looked at her, silent for a second. He surely wasn't expecting for it.  
"I made that story up. There is no East Princess. I didn't even think of an ending."  
"Well, now you have to!", Meg thought she maybe had a chance of convincing him. Maybe she could show him in this silly way that she cared, even if they had just met. "And it's better be a good ending. You can't leave me hanging like this!"  
The boy chuckled. It soon became a full laugh, that echoed in the empty walls. Meg couldn't say if he was laughing of joy or if he was laughing at her, so the atmosphere still felt a bit tense. But at least he wasn't staring at the lake anymore.  
"You shouldn't expect a good ending.", he said, when he finally stopped laughing. "My imagination usually takes dark turns."  
"At least you should let me see it for myself."  
The boy seemed to give it some thought.  
"Very well. But I don't take responsibility for the results.", he leaned down, picking up the cloak from the floor. Meg couldn't help sighing of relief as he put it back on. "You know your way around here, you said?"  
"Yes.", Meg nodded.  
"So I guess you could come back to hear the rest of the story."  
"And you better make it good!"  
The boy nodded slowly, as if he was already thinking of it.  
"Your mother won't approve it."  
"I can deal with her." Meg knew very well how to deal with her mother. Madame Giry was strict, but strict parents raise the best liars.  
"Alright. See you soon then, Meg.", the boy took the candle in his hands. "You should go now."  
Meg turned back so she could go to her mother, but she stopped and turned back to the boy.  
"It's unfair. You know my name but I don't know yours."  
"The world isn't fair, and nor am I.", he replied.  
Meg gave him a hard look that, soon she would learn, matched her mother's.  
"I will tell you next time you come.", he said.  
"Will you be here next time I come?", she asked, giving a quick glance to the lake. She worried if he wouldn't try again the moment she was out of sight.  
"I will. I have to give you an ending, right? It's a promise.", he assured her.  
Meg nodded, and started her way back to the surface. Her mother would probably scold her, but it didn't matter. She felt it was worth it.


End file.
